The Life of Vaelance Draechifel
by Vaelance
Summary: The story of a disenfranchised Dark Elf of noble birth who is raised by Clan Eshin assassins in Skavenblight, where he meets a beautiful High Elf maiden slave. This is the story of their unlikely love and their perilous journey together.
1. Chapter 1 Awakening

**The Life of Vaelance Draechifel**

The Warhammer World

Vaelance Draechifel was born near the Dark Elves City of Executioners, Har Ganeth, to a family of Druchii nobles. His family was accursed for forsaking the great dark elf King Malekith, but even so they possessed vast wealth and a dark, impenetrable keep with many loyal followers. They raised male sorcerers, forbidden by Malekith himself, in a bid to attain power of their own. Vaelance would never feel this power as was intended.

His mother, Atheris, died shortly after childbirth. As she died, the cruel but beautiful Slaaneshi-worshipping Witch Elf turned back to her true self, a decrepit and withered old hag, the blood of innocents no longer sustaining her eternal youth. His father, the most powerful, cruel male sorcerer of the dissenters, Lord Vincentis Draechifel, who had obsessively lusted over her, cursed his son, and blamed him for her death.

Enraged, Vincentis struck and shook his infant and declared him to be dead. He carved tears of blood with his long, sharp black fingernails under the child's right eye, demanding that he cry for his mother. He was to be sacrificed to the true dark elf God, Khaine, for although he had allowed his love, Atheris, to practice in the Cult of Slaanesh, he felt now that her God was weak. The name 'Vaelance of Draechifel' was branded with a hot iron rod above the infant's heart so that Khaine would know which heritage had offered him, and he was taken away by his father's slaves to be strung up and quartered at an altar to the malevolent God.

Fate had envisioned a different path for the child. En route to the execution site, a Skaven deathsquad of the infamous Clan Eshin assassins struck their caravan, in retaliation for disrupting Skaven slave supply lines. They appeared as ghosts, dressed in their jet black garments, cloaks moving like water in the foggy wind. Sharp, poison soaked knives and shivs of all kinds hung from every hook on their thick leather armor. The calculating mutated rat men were seeking the Druchii Lord known as Vincentis, but by stroke of chance, happened upon his servants taking out his trash.

The Druchii slave guards fought in desperation against the skilled assassins, fearing the terrible Lord Draechifel's reprisal if their deed failed. For if the dark elf soldiers returned home without completing the sacrifice they would be submitted to far worse than drawings and quarterings. They were equally equipped with lethal weaponry and the best of Druchii armor. They were skilled warriors, the best of Vincentis' men. But the Skaven hit too hard and too fast, and as the assassins smoke bombs dissipated, and the last Druchii sword hit the ground, the only sound that could be heard was the wailing of the infant Vaelance.

The leader of the Clan Eshin raiding party, a particularly cunning and fearsome rat named Drekkych, in a flash of uncharacteristic pity for the bruised and beaten child, saw an opportunity in raising the dark elf for his own. Turning to his underlings, he claimed the child's ownership. His loyal brothers obeyed without question, for the symettry of this pack of Eshin warriors was unparalled. They were twenty three hardened assassins, blood brothers from the same litter, trained since birth in the ninja arts. Drekkych had long since proven his might as the most capable of the pack, and was at liberty to command any decision.

He took the infant, swaddled in a gutter runner's black cloth, back to their compound in the deepest, darkest tunnels of Skavenblight, and began to look after him. Drekkych kept the boy locked in the deeply hidden sector that was their hideout, and he was left alone for days at a time as Drekkych and his deathsquad followed their lord Snikch on clandestine missions of assassination. When not at battle, however, Drekkych focused all of his efforts on raising and tutoring the Druchii child.

As Vaelance grew, he saw Drekkych as a pseudo-father figure, and while this was almost completely unheard of, they grew a strong bond as master and apprentice. Drekkych quelled any rivalries between the boy and the other clan members immediately. These rats were cold, and violent, and deadly, but they seemed to maintain a measure of balance when it came to their sanity compared to the average Skaven. They lived by a twisted set of morals, akin to the lifestyle they learned watching the ninja warriors in Cathay. As it seemed Drekkych wanted to treat the elf as a student, the other members of the pack followed suit.

Drekkych was sure he could craft the cunning and prowess of the dark elf into a worthy servant warrior. He took pleasure in the taboo of doing all of this under his superior's snouts. He had always suffered a keen fascination with other races, especially the Druchii. He taught the boy to speak many languages, and to read from a selected few of the pilfered wealth of Empire books the Skaven had at his disposal. But he, and the others never let the boy learn anything about the Druchii, for fear that the elven God of Murder, Khaine, would take Vaelance away from them, in mind and body. All Vaelance knew of himself was that he was elf kind, abandoned at birth, and his name from the brand on his chest.

For years the only light that Vaelance would see was through the fires of his master's torches and the glow of warpstone that affected the abounding plant life. He became so accustomed to the dark he could find his way through the labyrinth of caves in complete blackness. Tutored under the nimble and agile Drekkych he became a worthy assassin – aiding the deathsquad in the disposal of rival Clan members and remaining utterly concealed in the depths of the warp. He was valued for his own skills, his intuition and intelligence bested any average Skaven, and he took to the life of the assassin quite easily. Even as a youngling elf, his handsome demeanor belied his deadliness. His senses grew to that of his Skaven counterparts, and his eyes began to glow a sparkling toxic blue from exposure to the warpstone.

The pack had made their home in a set of tunnels near an underground hot-spring, and they had several open rooms filled with sweltering pools and glowing neon warp-infused fauna. Drekkych's private grotto was Vaelance's favorite place to go when not on a mission. It was a beautiful and mystical place, and Drekkych allowed no one but Vaelance and himself to go there. Sometimes they would train there in solitude, amongst the brightly glowing purple mushrooms and dazzling fungus patterns that covered the walls, floor and ceiling.

For a Skaven, Drekkych was unusually attuned with sympathy for his pet project, and Vaelance looked up to him with devotion. Drekkych seemed at times a hideous creature, bloodcrazed, the kind of nightmare you shudder to think of - but he could also conjure the image of the patient mentor. He allowed Vaelance to roam freely throughout the tunnels, under the condition that he use stealth and caution at all times. He was never allowed to leave the expanse of the pack's labyrinthine compound, unless on assignment with the others, nor would it be wise lest he find himself lost in the tunnels of Skavenblight surrounded by creatures far worse than his master.

Even as a child, when he slept, Vaelance begun to hear whispers in his dreams. He never told Drekkych about them, for he did not understand them himself. The voice claimed that he was the bloody handed God of Murder, and that Vaelance would soon be called to serve his destiny under him. The dreams, or nightmares, became a facet of his daily life, and the thought of his predestined fate at the hands of this malevolent God consumed him.


	2. Chapter 2 Realization

CHAPTER TWO: REALIZATION

Several decades passed, and Vaelance had matured into a deadly warrior. He fought with his surrogate brothers amongst rival warlords in the dark tunnels. Many of the original pack remained, for they were a hardened lot, far outliving the average Skaven due to a considerably healthier lifestyle. Clan Eshin warriors thrive on the perfection of their body, and thus hold ritualistic exercises and keep a strict diet. They endured for a long time, and held fast to the power they had for as long as they could.

Their many victories had been shared with losses, however, and they needed Vaelance now more than ever, as rival clans vieing for power threatened their territory. Vaelance tried to believe in his cause, but ultimately could not commit himself. As a young elf of 55 years, he was becoming restless. Drekkych could sense the growing dissatisfaction of his adopted warrior. Vaelance longed to release himself from the bowels of Skavenblight and see the world; to meet his own kind. To find his place.

Drekkych was not ready to let Vaelance go – but in an attempt to appease Vaelance's growing frustration, he whisked away an elven slave girl from the packmasters of Clan Moulder and brought her to him. Broken and pitiful, and almost prepared to be served as a meal to the giant rats of that clan, she feared the worst when she was dragged bound and gagged even deeper into the all consuming blackness of the Skaven tunnels.

Drekkych, snickering in anticipation of his apprentice's reaction, cut her loose and left her on the floor of Vaelance's private chamber on a night that he was encumbered in deep sleep, and locked the pair in the darkness. In the void of pitch black she could not see. She frantically crawled about the room, fearful of what fate awaited her; as Drekkych had not spoken a word to her. She made such a commotion that Vaelance stirred and awoke. His eyes opened like blue flames in the darkness, and the elven girl screamed in fear,

Taken aback by the sudden turn of events, Vaelance set his eyes on the poor girl and was completely in awe of the figure huddled on his floor. She was literally the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Although she could not see him but for the glow of his warp infused eyes, he could make her our perfectly in the darkness. He had never seen another elf, that he could remember.. and the tales of Elven beauty he had read so much about had not lied. Even in the torn and battered clothes she wore, with her golden brown hair disheveled and with the dirt that covered her face, he could not take his eyes off of her.

Assuming Drekkych had brought her to him, he spoke, softly, as to not scare the girl any further, "It's alright." All of his years of intense loneliness and isolation had made him eager for affection of some kind. He stood from his seat on the bed and walked towards the helpless girl, who's fear had not subsided. He knelt before her and tenderly touched her face. At first she reacted in fear, but sensing his gentle intentions, eventually cradled her head in his palm. She sobbed hysterically for a moment, and then let out a long sigh of relief – for it had been so long for her since she had felt any warmth at all. In a flash of excitement, and still unable to see, she asked, "Are you Elven kind?"

"I am.." he replied, and she began to weep, deeply, and wrapped her arms around him.

"It seems so long.. so long since I have been in the company of my own kind," she said.

Vaelance was filled with emotion, overcome with the excitement and relief of finally finding one of his own. He had been surrounded by the filthy, deviant Skaven for so long that he had no idea how badly he had wanted something else. As Drekkych had obviously taught him nothing of compassion, Vaelance had to draw everything he could from the depths of his soul to make his own. He hugged the young girl tight, and caressed her back. She appeared to be roughly the same age as himself, though it was difficult to tell with an elves' forever youthful appearance. It felt strange, and inappropriate to his upbringing, but he could not stop himself from comforting her.

She looked up towards him blindly, seemingly peering through him in a futile attempt to make out more than the glow of his eyes.

"Who are you? What is this place?" she asked.

"My name is Vaelance.. this is.. my home," He replied. She looked back at the dark shadow that was Vaelance questioningly.

"You live here? The Skaven keep you here?"

"In secret.. my master... Drekkych.. he must have brought you to me," he pondered. "He has always watched over me. I do not know why." The look of fear came back to her face.

"What are they going to do with us..? With me?" she nervously asked.

"I do not know his intentions. But I will let no harm befall you. I am a skilled warrior."

She scoffed, "A skilled warrior.. but a prisoner in the depths of Skavenblight!"

"I am no prisoner! Drekkych is my master, and I his apprentice!" he snapped. But immediately began to doubt himself. He had begun to feel imprisoned for quite some time. She looked sorry that she had upset him.

"What do you mean.. by apprentice?" she asked.

He cast his eyes down and spoke softly."I am sorry.. the truth is.. I do not know who I am… tell me.. who are you?"

Her wandering eyes, desperately searching for a light upon the mysterious man's face, lit up at his interest in her. No living creature had looked at her as more than a slave for who knows how long.

"I am Celestine Dalyth, of the Asur, from the province of Caledor. I was serving as a hand maiden for the lady Eledine Solarys. We were enroute as envoys to the men of Brettonia when I was taken by the Skaven packmasters. They killed my lady.. and her personal guard.. but took us handmaidens as slaves. I was the only one left when.. your.. master.." she began to weep again at the thought of her ill-fated friends, breaking down in Vaelance's arms. He hugged her close, and tried to change the subject.

"I have read very little of us.. master Drekkych has no books on our kind.. can you tell me about them?"

Celestine sniffled, and pulled herself together.

"Please.. do we have some light..? Its so very dark.. I wish to see the elf who has given me a taste of life again.."

Vaelance pulled away slowly, and touched her face to comfort her once more.

"Of course..." He moved to the old lantern that Drekkych had given him, and lit the wick with a small piece of flint. All at once light flooded into the crevasses of the pitch black cavern. Celestine shielded her eyes as they grew accustomed to the light. At first she could only see the blur that was Vaelance, and as he turned to face her and move back to her, the shadow that covered him like a robe of black crept slowly away, up his muscled body until he came into focus in the light in front of her.

She gasped in horror, and scuttled frantically against the wall. "You are Druchii!!" her tone was that of utter fear. Vaelance stumbled back into the shadows in confusion. "Please.. spare me!" she choked out of her dreadlocked voice.

"Please.." he said. "I mean you no harm! I do not know what you think I am.." his voice was apprehensive, and she could hear some truth to his words.

"Surely you can be no good! A dark elf in the service of a murderous Skaven! What trickery is this.." she yelled.

He took in her words. A _dark_ elf…? Perhaps it was true that he was no good.. he had never thought of it.. he had spent his life murdering rats in the depths of vile Skavenblight. But he had had no real reason to question his life until now. There were no other options open to him.

"I mean you no harm..." he said, almost begging her for a chance to prove his harmlessness against her. She looked him up and down, still huddled in a corner of the room, trying to form an opinion of him. His eyes did not glow as brightly in the light.. and he looked back at her with a soft glare. After a few awkward moments of silence, she finally seemed to believe he meant her no harm, at least for the moment.

"Who are you.. really..?" she asked.

"It is as I say.." he replied. "I have been raised by my master Drekkych in Skavenblight. I live in secret here, and work for him. I have never been to the surface.. least not since I was brought here. Master says I was to be sacrificed as a child. But he found me.. and brought me here."

"That makes no sense at all," she said. "What would a Skaven want with a Druchii? What kind of work do you do for him..?" she asked, expecting nothing good.

"Master has taught me to be an efficient killer. I have slain many of his rivals in his name," he spoke proudly, stepping again fully into the light.

She looked disappointed, knowing now that he was a ruthless killer, but felt a great deal of pity for the young elf. She could sense something strange about him, that he had never really been tainted with the terrible evil of the Druchii, and he had somehow remained sane surrounded by the barbarism of the Skaven. Perhaps, she wondered, killing the inherently evil Skaven might not make another inherently evil...

"You are like no Druchii I have ever seen.." she spoke.

"How are you and I so different?" he asked sympathetically, stepping forward.

She scoffed at this, shaking her head and looking to the floor. She offered no answer as the thought of it seemed to pain her.

Vaelance continued. "All I know of my kind, and my life before, is that I was left for dead by my family. They branded my name on my chest and cast me out. I share no sympathies with them."

She looked at him inquisitively. "Do you know your heritage, Vaelance?"

"I suppose I am Vaelance of Draechifel, so this brand I bear reads. I know nothing of my heritage."

She froze at the sound of his name, and the realization swept over her instantaneously.

"You are the lost son of Lord Vincentis Draechifel. From the cursed city of Har Ganeth," she looked like she was going to be sick. "Our people have been waging a war against Har Ganeth for countless years. I was enlisted to seek the help of the Brettonian's against them. Already we have suffered horrific losses at their hands.. and the atrocities that they commit there are too numerous, and terrible to speak of. Vincentis has recently struck an accord with them. Although the male sorcerer is forbidden by the Druchii, he and his followers have been allowed to live for now and incite terror in the surrounding lands. Together, the Executioners of Har Ganeth and their new sorcerous allies wield unimaginable power. The walls of Har Ganeth now extend to your father's stronghold." She could sense his intrigue, that he longed to know from where he came. She began to recite a passage from a dark text that she had learned.

_"The very name of Har Ganeth is cursed with evil. In Ulthuan none will even speak of the city which they call only the cursed place, whilst to the Dark Elves it is the city of the executioners._

_The High Elves brought battle to Har Ganeth and attacked the city with as great an army as had ever fought in the Witch King's... Malekith's land. For many days and nights the battle raged and at last the High Elves were driven from the field. Many fell as they turned to flee, yet many more were taken captive. Too exhausted to fight on they collapsed and woke to find themselves upon the altars of Khaine. The celebration of the Dark Elves was a terrible thing to behold. Captive after captive was brought to the altars and slain in the most cruel ways imaginable. The screams of the dying mingled with the shallow laughter of the Witch Elves as they danced naked about the bodies of the slain. Wine and blood flowed from the altars, and drunkenly the Dark Elves praised their evil god. For many nights the sacrificial fires burned and the Dark Elves feasted upon raw flesh. It was a madness of death and when it was over the sun rose upon a city stained red with blood._

_Blood fountained from the windows of the high citadel and ran down the streets like a river. Crimson gore spattered the temples of Khaine and stained his brazen idols. The steps of his temples were littered with the dismembered corpses of the slain. Everywhere lay Dark Elves entwined and covered in blood, stupified with wine and gorged upon raw flesh, sated upon the horrors of their own inhuman depravity. Har Ganeth is the city of executioners. To those who retain a shred of decency it is known only as the cursed place." (1)_

Vaelance felt a lingering familiarity when she spoke of the dark elves God, Khaine, but said nothing about it. He tried to picture his ancestors, and this Witch King, Malekith. The way she spoke of them was not at all what he had wanted to believe of his people. He had read nothing of the Druchii, and although he knew some of his father's wickedness, he had hoped his people were nobles of honor.

"Our kinds are at war," Vaelance spoke, uncomfortable with the idea that his people would attempt to harm something so beautiful. "You speak with only hatred of mine."

Again she scoffed. "You really have no idea, do you."

"Surely our kinds commit similiar atrocities," he guessed.

She thought for a moment. "Perhaps.. but it is your kind that enjoys the suffering."

Vaelance didn't understand. "I am sorry, I am just now learning anything about them."

"Perhaps there is hope for you then," she spoke. She used her ailing strength to pull herself from the floor. She walked slowly, showing the signs of her abuse as she stumbled towards Vaelance. "Please.. don't let them feed me to those creatures. I beg of you to offer me your protection."

Vaelance extended his right arm to her and caught her shoulder, balancing her.

"I swear to you, on my life, that I will protect you."

For a while their eyes locked with eachother, and he held her there gently with his strong hand. She saw a light beyond the glow of his eyes, and this seemed to comfort her.

"I am so very tired.. I have not slept well for such a long time... I feel as if it is finally safe to close my eyes for a moment," she said as she was growing visibly tired.

Vaelance led her to his cot and set her down. She lay back and looked over him once more in search of a trust. She seemed to find it, and laying on a comfortable surface for the first time she could remember, with her eyes heavy, she quickly dozed into dream. For a long while Vaelance sat by the edge of the cot and watched over her, entranced by her beauty. Eventually he grew tired again, having been interrupted earlier in his sleep, and fell asleep on the floor beside her.


	3. Chapter 3 Decision

Over the following months, Drekkych had few assignments for his apprentice, and allowed the pair to roam freely in his territory. Vaelance taught Celestine the way of his life, and how to supply for herself living in the tunnels of Skavenblight. He showed her many things and they grew very close. Celestine's inherent goodness overflowed and affected Vaelance. He began to question his life more than he had ever before. She told him many tales of the Asur, the High Elves, and their grand Kingdom, Ulthuan. He was fascinated by the splendor of her ancestors, and rarely spoke of his own, which he had begun to hold with disdain and disgust.

Celestine taught Vaelance about compassion and honor, things he had never been able to experience amongst his silent and deadly peers. She was able to draw all of the good that lay hidden within Vaelance to the surface. It was strange that the evil of the Skaven had not corrupted Vaelance's soul - it seemed the introversion of the Clan Eshin assassins was a boon to his retainment of goodness. He had been surrounded by killers his whole life, but they were quiet and only killed for a purpose. Had he been raised by any of the other clans, he would surely have turned into an abomination.

They spent much of their time in Drekkych's misty, colorful grotto, and Vaelance felt some joy in his life for the first time. Celestine never strayed too far from Vaelance's side, and on the few occasions where Drekkych called Vaelance to work, she stayed at his quarters and prepared food for when they would return. It didn't take long before the odd pair were deeply in love, a love that transcended all of the terrible rivalries that had plagued their kind for centuries.

It was a strange life they lived in the tunnels, they were almost as servants to the deathsquad - but Vaelance had earned a modicum of respect with the pack and the pair was left to themselves for the most part. The other Skaven ignored Celestine, viewing her as some kind of experiment brought upon by Drekkych, and this was fine with her as she never desired to be too close to any of the festering rat men.

Their life in Skavenblight continued for the better part of two years.. and Vaelance and Celestine had become inseparable. Drekkych began to regret 'giving' the girl to his apprentice, as the dark elf had clearly softened because of her. On more than one occasion, Vaelance had let one of Drekkych's rivals live out of pity for the sniveling creatures. A great rift had begun to grow between the master and apprentice, and Drekkych was unnerved by it.

On one particular night, Drekkych stealthily made his way into the grotto where he knew Vaelance and Celestine had settled down for the evening. He crept along the stalagmites amongst the glowing mushrooms, concealed by years of grueling training in his dark art. He had grown tired of Vaelance's discontent and wanted to confirm his suspicion that the young Druchii had begun to stray from the path Drekkych had created for him. He perched atop the highest ledge in the grotto, hidden in the shadow of a grand mushroom cap, and listened intently to the two elves' conversation.

Vaelance and Celestine sat sprawled on a ragged blanket, just feet away from the misty waters surface. Vaelance was propped up on one arm, his other hand running through the silky golden brown hair of the beautiful elven maiden. She smiled at his touch, as she always did, and stared piercingly back into his glowing eyes. After a moment she looked down to the water and seemed to be lost in her existence.

"Do you think we will die in this place?" she asked, softly - but not softly enough as to not be heard by the superior senses of Drekkych - he could hear them both clearly.

Vaelance answered assuredly. "We will not die here. I intend to see the world, Celes. And I intend to return you to your people. We cannot stay here forever. I will bring you home." She leaned in closer to him and placed an arm around his shoulder. Above on his perch, Drekkych shuddered at Vaelance's words.

Celestine spoke again, clutching Vaelance's body tightly. "I love you, Vaelance. I believe you were meant for more than your life in this terrible place. If we could only show our people that we are capable of change.. there must be a path to reconciliation. Would you return home with me? My family.. I do not know what they would say - but I could never be without you. I could make them understand.." she spoke with a tension of doubt in her voice, for she did not fully believe that her people could understand. Vaelance sensed it, but shook it off.

"I will go with you unto the ends of the earth, my love." He paused for a moment, and let the depth of his words sink into Celestine's heart. "It will not be long now until we take our leave."

"Drekkych will never let you go willingly.." she said fearfully. In the shadows, Drekkych nodded his approval of the statement to himself - but was perturbed with what Vaelance would say next.

"I am not so sure," Vaelance replied. "Drekkych has been like a father to me. Although he may not understand the things that you have taught me, he must share some feeling, some bond, with me. I sense their is more emotion in his soul then he cares to admit. I will ask him for our freedom."

Drekkych pondered Vaelance's words, and for but a moment, he sensed truth in them, and considered actually letting Vaelance leave. He quickly tried to shake the strange feeling from his mind. It felt like a weakness to him, and he would not have it. He could not. He was a Clan Eshin assassin. Misery, betrayal and death were all he knew. Or so he had thought. He resisted the urge to show himself, and listened for more.

"And if he says no.. what will you do? What if he kills you for betraying him?" Celestine was clearly doubtful of the idea.

"I will do whatever I must to assure you are allowed to live your life, as you were meant to. And I will do as I must to live it with you. Even if it means I must kill Drekkych.. so be it. I will do whatever I must for you."

Drekkych could not deny that he felt betrayed, and that he cared that the elf had betrayed him. Whatever heart he had in his bristle coated chest sank to the bottom of it.

With this, Drekkych could stand in silence no longer. With a leap he sent himself through the air and landed mere yards from the spot the two elves lay. They both sat up sharply, and a look of horror swept over Celestine's face.

"You forget your place, elf!" Drekkych hissed, drawing his serated rapier from his cloak. "You will never leave! You are both mine!"

Vaelance stood, placing himself in a defensive position between Drekkych and Celestine. He drew the sword that Drekkych had gifted him many years ago.

"Well here it is then. You are my friend and mentor, Drekkych, but we can no longer remain here. Please let us go," Vaelance pleaded.

"I have no need of friends! You are my property!" He pointed at Celestine with his dagger. "This elf wench has poisoned your mind against me! If you attempt to leave I will kill you myself!"

"After all this time, you would kill me? I have been nothing but loyal to your cause – Let us go! I can stay no longer. If you threaten her, I will kill you," Vaelance spoke with years of gained confidence.

Drekkych snarled an ear splitting screech and leapt at Vaelance. Celestine rolled out of the way as the battle ignited in the grotto. Their short swords clashed, parry after parry, with Drekkych and Vaelance using the environment around them as stepping stones for sweeping, lightning fast mid-air strokes. Soon each fought with two weapons, sword and dagger. Their moves were identical, and each knew each other's next before it occurred. Celestine huddled against a rock, watching in horror and fear as her love fought for his life. She moved to attempt aid, and as Vaelance saw her scrambling on the floor looking for something to throw, he yelled to her mid-combat.

"Stay out of this Celes! This is my fight!" And she obeyed, hunched up next to the rock feeling helpless.

Drekkych growled, dismayed by his apprentices assuredness that he could take his master alone. They fought on. The Skaven fought more and more fiercely, each stroke falling harder than the last, but Vaelance parried every blow. For fifteen minutes that seemed like hours their battle continued, both of the unnaturally agile warriors darting to and fro about the grotto. Drekkych, having grown old, began to tire of such an extended foray. His moves began to grow slower, and his breathing punctured.

Finally, their weapons locked, and there faces were drawn together in an instant. For a moment they made complete eye contact, the realization that they did not want to kill each other was considered and they ceased their struggle. But as the blood seeped back into Drekkych's eyes and the next stroke made inevitable, Vaelance let out a battle cry and brought his boot to the rat man's chest, sending him flying across the room, and near the rock that Celestine was huddled against. Drekkych picked himself up quickly, albeit a bit stunned from the last move, and realized suddenly that he could not win this fight.

In a dash, followed closely by Vaelance, he grabbed for the elf maiden, spun her around violently and put his blade to her throat. She let out a yelp in shock. Vaelance stopped mid-stride as to not provoke him further and panic washed over him.

"Do not hurt her!" he yelled pleadingly.

Drekkych was breathing heavily, on the verge of hyperventilation, and was growing weak. "You.. betrayed.. me.."

"Drekkych! Let her go! She has done nothing!" yelled Vaelance.

"It.. is.. she… who is responsible for your betrayal! I.. should.. have never.. given her.. to you.." Drekkych said hysterically.

"She was not yours to give!" Vaelance replied. "No one is! We are not your slaves!"

"You… are alive… because of ME! You... are… MINE!!" Drekkych all but screamed. For a moment loosening his grip on Celestine and opening himself for attack. In this split second, with the skill of the quickest of Skaven assassins, Vaelance drew a throwing dagger from his belt, and with deadly accuracy, sank it into Drekkych's exposed shoulder. Coated with a paralytic poison, its effects instantly incapacitated Drekkych, and he dropped his weapons and slumped to the ground.

"I am alive because of you! But I am not yours! I would be your friend!! But I will not be your slave! And neither will she!" Vaelance yelled to the still conscious Drekkych.

Celestine jumped away from Drekkych's fallen body and ran to Vaelance. As the poison spread quickly, Drekkych lost all feeling and control to his lower body, and was quickly losing the power of speech.

"Its'ss… not… not fair…" Drekkych said, locking eyes with Vaelance again. "I… am… your father." The words hit Vaelance like a thunderclap, and his admiration for the great rat was not deterred, but strengthened. Tears welled up in his eyes as the unanticipated words he had longed to hear from his mentor were spoken to him.

"Drekkych…" Vaelance whispered. The poison overtook the Skaven, and the consciousness drained from his eyes.

Celestine comforted Vaelance, and asked, "He is dead then?"

"Not dead. But we will be if he wakes up. We must go, now!"


End file.
